


all-hands meeting

by Katraa



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dorks, Established Relationship, Fluff, HR meeting, Hibiki works at JP’s, Humor, Innuendo, M/M, Mentioned Explicit Sexual Content, Post Triangulum Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 04:12:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14968835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katraa/pseuds/Katraa
Summary: Yamato narrowed his eyes, dangerously annoyed but also rising to the challenge.  Hibiki feared for that agent’s life just then.  “Therein lies the problem. If you all were not daft and unprofessional enough to keep to yourselves, this would not have been brought to our attention.  Now, I am nipping it in the bud.”POST TRI-ARC: in which yamato has to have an impromptu meeting about sexual activities at the workplace.





	all-hands meeting

**Author's Note:**

> i didn’t write this on my phone.  
> this is so absurd. and all rad’s fault.  
> can you tell i’ve had a slow week at work?  
> hmmmMMm.

It was usually fairly obvious when he was being goaded. The newer recruits often minded their own business out of justified fear of their Chief. The higher-ups were less well-behaved. Specifically, those that had been with the organization for a long time knew what buttons to push and exactly what lines they could toe without being fired. Yamato was extremely efficient by nature and it wouldn’t be worthwhile to fire a high-performing agent over a practical joke. The net loss was too large.

But that didn’t mean he tolerated their hijinks.

Particularly, he did not find it one ounce professional that many of the agents had taken it upon themselves to canoodle at work. Passing glances, locked office doors, and god knows what on the cafeteria tables. He shuddered to think about it. It upset him to no end and the very idea that his own subordinates would mix business with pleasure was an insult to his entire person.

So whenever things began to slip, when the well-oiled machine that was JP’s started to creak and sag with age, Yamato did what he always did.

He called an all-hands meeting.

It probably wasn’t for the best.

The topic itself made his skin crawl so he slated the task of presenting to Makoto. Granted she was no more equipped to handle it herself, but at least he could sit there and look daunting without uttering such words as “groping” and “fondling”. 

So there he sat, at the head of the table, arms folded and eyes icy. It was amazing how the entirety of JP’s fit into the conference room. Then again, he hadn’t bothered to call the other branches and had left their presentations to their respective Generals. 

Irritably, Yamato pinched the bridge of his nose as Makoto paced back and forth. The agents were slowly filtering in at this point and it was right before lunch. Tensions were high and it hadn’t exactly been disclosed what the subject of the meeting was. People just rightfully assumed someone had fucked up. It was doubtful they realized it was an entirely different type of “fucking” that was the cause.

Set out at each set in the conference room was a pamphlet. It was your standard sized employee handbook with _certain_ pages flagged. Specifically, pages that were now amended to explicitly call out the egregious and promiscuous behavior plaguing JP’s. It was infuriating that such matters needed to be explicitly called out and banned. Miscreants.

A familiar mess of curls eventually sidled into the chair beside him. Hibiki was in the middle of finishing a game of tetris on his phone and he had taken to absently chewing on the end of one of his jacket’s custom-tailored bunny ears. Yamato had told him to stop months ago but old habits died hard evidently.

“Hibiki. Game away,” muttered Yamato under his breath, feigning indifference when really the sight of the game absolutely fascinated him. It wasn’t the first time Hibiki had played it in front of him, but each and every time Yamato grew more and more intrigued by the colorful blocks and mundane nature of it. Civilians and their outdated technology. _Fascinating_.

“Huh? Oh.” 

Quickly, Hibiki pocketed his phone. His eyes swept across the conference room and the fabric fell from his lips. “What’s this about, anyway?”

“Perhaps if you looked in front of you you would find all the answers you seek,” Yamato deadpanned. It wasn’t loud enough for anyone else to hear – thank god – because it’d probably be disadvantageous to have any agent thinking he had a sense of humor. 

“Hmmmm.”

Slowly, Hibiki flipped open the pamphlet to the first flag, one finger deep in the crease. His face scorched scarlet almost immediately. 

“You’re kidding.”

“Do I ever?”

“We’re having a meeting about _sexual harassment_?” hissed Hibiki under his breath, distressed and ears turning a fetching shade of magenta. It was suddenly very, very hard to breathe.

“No,” answered Yamato and then amended, “Inappropriate activities in the workplace.”

“Oh my god.” 

Hibiki pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead and prayed to every deity that he’d survive this ordeal. He had been working alongside Yamato for just under a year now and nothing _this_ absurd had come across his desk yet. Sure, strange demons and drunken agents were normal, but an entire meeting dedicated “inappropriate touching” seemed to be overkill. Couldn’t he just interoffice a memo? Or something!

“Please, quiet.”

Makoto’s voice, hesitant but somehow still booming, rose about the chattering. Only a few agents had even bothered to peek at the materials in front of them. It was fairly obvious who they were – anyone staring with a wolfish smirk in Yamato’s general direction _clearly_ knew the trainwreck that was about to ensue. It was just remarkable that Yamato didn’t see any of the warning signs.

“Thank you all for your promptness,” Makoto began and reached for a presentation clicker in his coat pocket. “This will not be long. I, like the rest of you, have important business I need to return to. So please, ask any questions you may have, but refrain from talking over anyone else.”

Hibiki slumped lower in his seat.

“As you may or may not know, there has been an uptick lately in the… ah, interpersonal affairs between agents.” That’s where Makoto’s bravado vanished like a puddle on a hot summer day. Her hand trembled just a bit and she cleared her throat, gesturing with the laser at the screen. 

The PowerPoint simply showed a few code of ethics. 

“While nothing in the handbook to date has addressed this … promiscuity,” and that’s when the whole room began to pay attention, leaning forward in their seats, “we thought that it didn’t need to be addressed. But evidently, we were wrong.”

And that’s where things took a turn for the worse.

“Just last week two agents were caught after hours in the hallway,” Makoto said, reading straight from the screen as she flipped to another slide.

The presentation went on from there, but varying shades of ambiguity and vagueness. It was painfully clear what she was getting at: no messing around on the clock or on the grounds. It was five slides too long and Hibiki felt that each and every second Makoto spoke another year was being shaved off his fragile life.

Yamato remained unperturbed beside him, chin resting in the crook of his palm. He almost looked _bored_ , if not pissed that this all had taken place.

“So to conclude,” Makoto said, her face equal parts pale and maroon, “We are instating a new work policy that any physical relationship between agents is strictly prohibited.”

Apparently it was more than just the sex. Go figure.

Hands immediately shot up, followed by offended noises and wild turning of heads. One of the older agents that worked alongside Otome was the first to get Makoto’s attention with the way she sat up board-straight and waved her hand dramatically in the air.

“Er—yes?”

Makoto didn’t feel any bit comfortable calling on people like a Professor.

“What about those of us who are already married?” she insisted.

“That’s…” Makoto faltered and looked painfully awkward. Her eyes darted away and back towards Yamato who had finally sighed, loudly, and gotten to his feet. He passed behind Hibiki’s chair – and Hibiki swore he fixed his hood along the way – and joined her at in front of the screen.

“This is not a retroactive rule,” Yamato said, bored again, and he folded his arms to his chest. “It is forward-looking.”

At least they weren’t going to call for divorces.

“But what about those of us who aren’t married but…” Someone else had suggested.

Yamato rolled his eyes. “If it is not legally binding, then stop. There are plenty of candidates outside of these four walls.”

Did he seriously just call them that?

“You’re asking us to break-up?!”

Yamato clicked his tongue, utterly annoyed. “It is poor judgment for you have started to in the first place. Especially so if you have allowed it to bleed into your work. Are you done asking inane questions now?”

The agent shrunk back in her seat. One of the sassier gentleman rose his hand and tossed his boss a very offended glare.

“So what? Some people hook-up against a fridge and now we’re all banned from going on dates? How the hell are you even going to monitor that?”

Yamato narrowed his eyes, dangerously annoyed but also rising to the challenge. Hibiki feared for that agent’s life just then. “Therein lies the problem. If you all were not daft and unprofessional enough to keep to yourselves, this would not have been brought to our attention. Now, I am nipping it in the bud.”

“You said physical relationship. What about friends? Friends hug.”

Yamato whirled to the right to _stare_ at the agent that had just said that. How fucking dumb. “Do not touch anyone else while on these grounds. It is a fairly straightforward rule. I did not realize it needed a dissertation to explain it.”

To make matters worse, that infuriating little demonlord cretin had deigned to join them. He mockingly wore a uniform to blend in, but anyone with half a brain would realize that he was not an agent and not even _human_ , what with those piercing red eyes and the stupid cat headphones.

“What is it?” Yamato almost snarled, foot tapping as he called on him against his better judgment. Causing a scene now would just cause upheaval and chaos. 

“I doubt it was _that_ bad of a problem, but now you’re just pouring oil on it. Now it’s gonna be a huge dumpster fire and everyone and their Mother is going to want a piece of action because it’s forbidden. Not your best move.”

Yamato looked as affronted as he felt. His brows furrowed together and his lips pulled tightly into the nastiest snarl Hibiki had ever seen. Makoto seemed to notice this, too, and she was slowly edging away to head around the tables to try and escort said Abel out before Yamato lost his cool.

“And seriously. Are you afraid of people macking, or is this just a ‘no one is allowed to be happy, this is work, look at how serious and stonelike we are, I’ve never had fun a day in my life.’ Seriously, man. What stick is chronically lodged up your ass? And can we make a move to dislodge it? Not like I’m volunteering, but—”

That was when Yamato stopped paying attention to him. Entertaining that troublemaker usually only led to worse outcomes. So with his veins absolutely throbbing, Yamato turned away to the rest of the agents and tried to ignore their amused sneers and looks of horror at the fact that someone had just mouthed off to their noble leader.

Hibiki was trying not to laugh, hand covering his face. This was such a disaster.

“Effective immediately, anyone found to be in a workplace relationship will be fired. No questions asked,” Yamato said with such finality that it shrouded the room in _utter silence_ again.

No one said anything for a solid minute. Yamato stood there, arms crossed, head tilted, and _daring_ anyone to defy him. 

And really, it almost seemed like that defiance would never come, but one of the older agents – someone that had been around for far too long and liked to poke the bear so to speak – leaned forward in his seat. God knows what agents he was touching. Yamato didn’t want to know.

“Does this mean you’re firing yourself, Chief?”

Yamato looked stricken. His eyes widened and his fingers clenched painfully tight against his arms. 

“Excuse me?”

Chatter rose up amongst the ranks and Makoto had already ushered Abel to the door. Both turned around abruptly and locked eyes with the now downright panicked Hibiki. 

“Thought my question was pretty clear. If we can’t date, shouldn’t you also not date in the workplace?”

Deafening silence.

Hibiki continued sliding further and further down his chair, as if he truly thought that if he did it long enough, it would work. It wasn’t. 

“What are you—”

“The handbook is for e-employees. The Chief is the head of the organization and is not employed nor paid through it,” Makoto stammered.

God, Yamato almost considered marrying her in that moment. If it wasn’t against the policy. His gaze betrayed him and it flicked over to Hibiki who had sunken so low that his chin was almost touching the table. His face was beet red and he looked much like a frightened rabbit. If it wasn’t so worrisome Yamato would have found it strangely endearing.

“…Technicalities,” muttered the disgruntled agent but shut up. His point had already been made. And _everyone_ knew exactly what that point was.

“Just keep your hands to yourself. If we don’t see it, it isn’t happening. Dismissed,” Yamato snapped and whirled around to head back over to his seat beside Hibiki.

Makoto took it upon herself to begin ushering the agents out of the room. A few of the forgotten pamphlets now had very colorful doodles on them, demonstrating just what was supposedly banned at the organization now. Idiots. All of them.

“I can’t believe you thought that was a good idea,” Hibiki whispered when the last agent ambled out. His face was unbelievably pale and his circulation hadn’t returned to his extremities. 

“It is unprofessional,” Yamato muttered, in a snit, chin held up high.

“Right.. but…” Hibiki cleared his throat. “You know.”

“What?”

“…We’re dating.”

Yamato blinked a few times, gaze flicking over to meet Hibiki’s. “I am fully aware of that.” He almost seemed offended, like a pissed off cockatiel that was now spreading its feathers and trying to piss off the rest of the clan. “I am not an employee, as Sako explained, nor do we act inappropriately at work.”

“Most of the time.”

Yamato’s face turned a rare shade of red as he looked away. That haughtiness melted and he stared squarely at the smooth service of the table. So maybe Hibiki had a point.

“I kind of like when we break the rules,” Hibiki continued, dropping his chin down to both his palms, eyes bright and mischievous. “Like during your teleconferences and you put the phone on mute so I can sit under your desk and—”

Yamato immediately slammed his hand over the smirking lips he loved so, so much. For so, _so_ many reasons. “Hibiki. Enough.”

Good god Yamato was sweating. He looked so painfully intrigued.

Hibiki gently nudged the hand away, still grinning. “I’m just saying… no fun during work seems like a bad idea. I won’t be able to pull those ‘all nighters’ anymore.”

Defeated, Yamato scrubbed his face with his hand. He let out a heavy, eyes shut, and muttered just loud enough for Hibiki to hear, “I will revoke the policy in the morning. Now, report to my office _immediately_ before I change my mind.”

Hibiki didn’t dare to ask what he meant by that last bit. “Yes, sir!”

And Hibiki was a dutiful enough boyfriend to know he never _would_ need to find out.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know your thoughts!


End file.
